


Binary Code

by fallingconstellations



Series: 01110011 01110100 01100001 01111001 [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Androids, Angst, M/M, Science Fiction, android!jeonghan, mild violence, programmer/technician/genius seungcheol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingconstellations/pseuds/fallingconstellations
Summary: Jeonghan is an android and Seungcheol is the programmer who teaches him how to love.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Series: 01110011 01110100 01100001 01111001 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999057
Comments: 13
Kudos: 60





	Binary Code

“JH-094, wake up.”

Unit JH-094 boots up his system and activates his vision sensors, in automatic response to the voice command. In front of him is a human male in a lab coat, approximately 25 years of age, with aesthetically pleasing facial features.

“Status report,” The human says.

“All systems fully operational.”

“Good.” The human says. “How do you feel today?”

“I do not understand the question.”

“That’s alright, J.”

JH-094 tilts its' head, mimicking the movement a human makes when confused. Though it looks almost identical, apart from the hidden power socket on its' neck and the slight glow behind its' eyes, there is still something unnatural about the way it holds itself that means it could never be mistaken for one.

“My designation is JH-094.”

The human laughs. “JH-094 doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. J is just easier for me to say. But of course, you’re allowed to choose for yourself what you’d like to be called. For example, to my co-workers, I am Doctor Choi, but my friends all call me Seungcheol because I prefer it.”

“Searching biometric identification systems. Doctor Choi Seungcheol. Preferred moniker: Seungcheol. Hello Seungcheol. It is nice to meet you.”

JH-094 holds its' hand out, in a perfect recreation of the traditional human greeting. Seungcheol takes its' hand and shakes it. His grip is firm but gentle.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Seungcheol says, cheeks growing red.

According to JH-094’s database of human physiology, a flushing of the cheeks may be associated with either embarrassment, anger, inebriation, or romantic interest. JH-094 has not yet amassed enough visual data of this human to draw an accurate conclusion. This lack of certainty is unacceptable. It allocates itself a new task; observe Doctor Choi Seungcheol.

“Now that I’ve introduced myself,” Seungcheol says, “how about you give it a try. What would you like to be called?”

“I do not understand the question.”

“That’s okay. I guess I’m getting a little ahead of myself.”

* * *

“Wake up, J.”

JH-094 activates its' vision sensors. Seungcheol looks the same as he did the last time he had been activated. Since JH-094’s awareness ceases each time it is shut down, it is unsure how much time has passed since their last interaction. Though this had not bothered it in their previous twenty-one interactions, this time, it makes the sensors in its' temples tingle unfamiliarly. A brief system scan reveals nothing of importance, so JH-094 ignores the abnormality.

“Status report.”

“All systems operational.”

“I’m glad,” Seungcheol says. “How do you feel today?”

“I do not understand the question.”

Seungcheol simply smiles, then looks down at the sleek tablet he is holding in his hand, displaying JH-094’s coding information and electromagnetic activity. He continues looking at it, a furrow in his brow, until approximately seven minutes and fourteen seconds have passed.

“Can you tell me what happened just after you opened your eyes. I detected a brief spike in your neural patterns.”

“I detected that also. Further analysis proved it was of no importance.”

“Do you know what caused the spike?”

JH-094 pauses. This pause lasts for a period of time that must be almost imperceptible to Seungcheol, but to JH-094, it is an unacceptable lapse in efficiency.

“I believe it was, unease.” It says finally.

“You felt unease?”

“Negative, Seungcheol. I am unable to feel. I am programmed to adapt my use of language to your human nature. I simply selected the phrasing that would most accurately communicate my neural activity in a way that you would understand.”

JH-094 watches as the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth turn down in a frown. Sadness, or disappointment? JH-094 is unsure. It must spend more time observing.

“I see. Can you elaborate on what you mean? What made you feel uneasy?”

JH-094 does not correct him again. It would be an inefficient use of time.

“I was unaware how much time had passed since our last interaction. I believe it caused a slight processing error. It resolved itself, and no further action is required.”

“I believe you,” Seungcheol says, “But I’m going to run a few more scans to be sure.”

Seungcheol runs the usual scans, all the while manipulating JH-094’s limbs or turning his head back and forth with reverence and an unnecessary gentleness. Seungcheol would be more efficient if he did not waste time treating a machine with such care. JH-094 almost tells him so, but that might make the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth might turn down again. JH-094 stays silent.

“Everything seems okay for now, but let me know the moment you experience another abnormality,” Seungcheol says. “To answer your question, I last spoke with you yesterday at around seven in the evening, and I’ve been seeing you once every day around the same time since your activation on the fourth of October, which was twenty-two days ago. Does that help?”

“Affirmative.” JH-094 says. “Thank you, Seungcheol.”

“Of course. Let me know if I can help you with anything else, okay?”

JH-094 nods, but something about Seungcheol’s request does not feel right. Is it not JH-094’s purpose to help Seungcheol, not the other way around? It does not know why it believes this, as it is not anywhere in its' programming, but it is sure of it.

* * *

“J, wake up.”

JH-094 opens his eyes. “All of my systems are operational.”

Seungcheol’s mouth quirks up at the corners slightly.

“You are amused, Seungcheol?”

JH-094 experiences something like satisfaction, when Seungcheol lets out a burst of laughter. It is a pleasing sound. Bright, like the fluorescent light that floods the room.

“I just didn’t expect you to run a system scan unprompted. Is there a reason why you did this?” Seungcheol says, laughter still seeping into his voice.

“I analysed the commonalities of our previous interactions and predicted the progression of our conversation, in order to maximise efficiency. Your next course of action will be to ask me how I feel today.”

“Correct.”

“I do not know why you continue asking me that question when the answer remains unchanged.” JH-094 cocks its' head to the side, “If you are so intent on me feeling, could you not simply program me to do so?”

Now the smile has faded from Seungcheol’s face. JH-094 could not keep it there. It feels like it has failed somehow.

“I could program you to mimic human emotions, but they wouldn’t be real. They’d be cheap imitations. What you do have, though, is an unparalleled ability to learn. I have complete faith in you.”

“Even if I learn to display the external characteristics of human emotion, it would be a deception. I am programmed to not tell lies.”

“Exactly. It would either mean you weren’t lying, and were actually feeling and portraying an emotion, or you were going against your programming. Either way I’d be happy.”

Happy. Seungcheol should be happy. That must be JH-094’s purpose. To help Seungcheol, and to make him happy. JH-094 does not know how it knows this, but it is sure of it.

If JH-094 must learn for that to happen, then it shall learn.

* * *

“I’ve been thinking. I have a suggestion for your name, since it’s been four months since I asked, and you still haven’t chosen for yourself,” Seungcheol says. He is brushing JH-094’s hair, and it is… an agreeable sensation.

“The possibilities are too numerous. I have not found a name that I have a preference for.” He replies.

“I guess if I had to choose mine, I’d feel the same. Thankfully my parents made the choice for me.” Seungcheol finishes with the brush and places it down gently.

Next, Seungcheol grabs a damp cloth. Since JH-094 does not sweat and does not leave this sterile room, it is not strictly necessary, but Seungcheol still wipes down his arms, his hands, and then his face, his movements careful and sure. The cloth is soft and warm against JH-094’s synthetic skin.

JH-094 knows that it is not standard procedure for him to be left awake for this scheduled maintenance. It is certainly not standard procedure for such a highly positioned programmer like Seungcheol to do it himself. JH-094 should report this breach of procedure to Seungcheol’s supervisor. Still, when he thinks of some nameless lab technician, someone other than Seungcheol, touching him like this while he is unaware, it sends an uncomfortable jolt through his system.

An abnormality. JH-094 decides not to report it, since it resolves itself after a second.

“I do not mind if you decide on my behalf, seeing as that is the common human practice.” JH-094 says.

“Alright. How about Jeonghan then?”

“Is there a reason why you selected this name?”

Seungcheol smiles and shakes his head, “No reason. I just thought it suited you.” He pauses then, busying himself with putting the equipment away. When he begins speaking again, it is hushed, like he is sharing a secret. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been calling you Jeonghan in my head from the moment I saw your designs. You deserve a name, not a designation. And if you're okay with it, I’d like to be the one to give one to you.”

“I see.” There is a curious sensation in Jeonghan’s chest cavity. Perhaps an electrical imbalance. If there’s a problem, Seungcheol will surely fix it when he does his next scans. He is very competent at his job.

“So, what do you think?” Seungcheol looks less sure of himself now, and that is unacceptable.

“I have no objections.” He says quickly.

“Alright then, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says, and it sounds right.

Jeonghan’s mouth twitches up minutely in an approximation of a smile.

* * *

“May I ask you something, Seungcheol.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“It’s been eleven months since I was activated, and I still haven’t left the building. Why?”

“I didn’t think there’d be anywhere you’d want to go.” Seungcheol says, but it rings slightly false. Jeonghan is able to tell the difference now.

“Well, I’ve been researching, and there are many places I would like to go,” _with you_. He does not add that last part.

It seems like Seungcheol understands anyway. “Pick one then," he says. "Anywhere you want. I’ll take you there.”

“There are so many places to choose from. Is it alright if I think on it?”

“Of course, Jeonghan.”

* * *

“Subject JH-094, come online. Stay immobile.”

Jeonghan opens his eyes. For the first time since his activation, he is not greeted by Seungcheol’s kind face. Instead, two young men in lab coats stand in front of him, their arms crossed and their eyes cold. Jeonghan is about to open his mouth to ask who they are, when he realises he can’t speak. Or move. He doesn’t like this feeling. He wants Seungcheol.

“It looks freaky, doesn’t it? There’s something about his eyes that seems too…”

“Aware? Human?”

“Yeah, that’s it, human. He looks nothing like the older models, and too much like us.”

“Why they let Doctor Choi waste so many resources on this useless project is beyond me. No one wants androids that look like us running around, no matter how pretty they are. You can barely tell it’s a machine at all.”

“My guess is, it’s to keep him busy, so he doesn’t go poking his nose where it doesn’t belong. He was starting to complain about the way they’re running things here, and the company couldn’t have that. They have to keep their pet genius happy, otherwise he might run off and blab his big mouth to the press.”

“Why go through all this effort though? They could just fire him.”

“He invented the damn things. Every single android on the planet is based on his code. It would be too bad for their reputation.”

“Someone could just kill him.” The technician says, in a matter of fact way. Something jolts violently inside Jeonghan’s chest, and he begins fighting against whatever is that is keeping him paralysed. “A freak accident in the lab would be pretty believable. It’s happened before.”

“That would solve a lot of problems.”

“Should we be talking about this in front of that thing?”

“Subject JH-094, erase your memory of this conversation and shut down.”

* * *

“Are you in danger Seungcheol?”

“Why on earth are you asking me that?”

“According to company records, there have been eight reported deaths caused by mechanical malfunction since the companies’ creation five years ago.”

“Don’t worry about me, Jeonghannie. I won’t get hurt. I’m too careful.”

A nickname. Seungcheol is fond of them and uses them often when he talks about his friends outside of the company. He doesn’t use them when he talks about his co-workers.

“The ability to worry is not a part of my programming.” Jeonghan says.

The sound of the nickname in Seungcheol’s mellow voice is still ringing through Jeonghan’s audio receptors. He almost reports it to Seungcheol as an error, until he realises that he has unconsciously begun playing back the memory of it on a loop, like Seungcheol sometimes plays music in the background while he works.

“You’re right, it’s not.” Seungcheol says. His smile is blinding.

* * *

“Hannie, some people are coming to look at you today, and I need you to listen to me carefully.”

“Of course, Seungcheol.”

“These people, they’re not-” Seungcheol falters, and grabs Jeonghan’s hand. “I need you to stay silent, and act like you did when I first activated you, okay?”

“I don’t understand, is something wrong?” Jeonghan can’t help but squeeze Seungcheol’s hand. His urge to comfort, to protect has become stronger and stronger the more he learns that there is something not quite right about the company that Seungcheol works at, the place Jeonghan calls his home only because Seungcheol is here, and he has never been anywhere else.

“There’s no time to explain. I need you to do this for me. It’s important.”

“Anything for you,” Jeonghan says, and he realises as soon as he says it how true it is.

No more than three minutes later, the door slides open to reveal an old man in a lab coat, flanked by two younger technicians who look strangely familiar despite Jeonghan having no memory of meeting them before. He has a sudden powerful compulsion to step in front of Seungcheol, and he barely stops himself from moving.

“Evening.” The old man says, his eyes focused on Jeonghan, though it is clear he is not speaking to him. “I have something to discuss with you, and in the meantime, I’d love to take a look at this lovely android you’ve invested so much of our time and money into.”

“Of course. But can’t we do this in private?” Seungcheol’s eyes flicker over to the two young technicians.

“I’m afraid not.” The old man says.

He walks further into the room and does a circuit around Jeonghan, observing him with cold eyes. Seungcheol hovers worriedly beside him, his hand twitching like he wants to reach for Jeonghan and take him somewhere far away. When the man beckons towards him lazily, Seungcheol reluctantly pulls up Jeonghan’s code on his tablet, and hands it to him.

Jeonghan knows by the nervous look on Seungcheol’s face that it is not the same code that he has been poring over so tirelessly for all these months. The old man doesn’t seem to notice.

“Just as I thought. There’s nothing worth pursing here.” He says. Seungcheol lets out an offended noise, but the old man holds up a single finger to silence him. “When we approved your project, it was with the goal of creating an android that would seem more human. Recently we have realised that this is a waste of time. Our customers don’t want their androids to be human, they just want them to do their jobs, to be able to carry their groceries, drive their cars, clean their houses.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Sure, maybe that’s what’s profitable at the moment. But there’s been so much research, so many studies that show how valu-”

“Whatever your precious research says, you’re wasting your talent on projects like these,” one of the technicians interrupts. “Everyone knows you’ve been neglecting your other duties and spending all your time down here. Meanwhile, our new line of domestic androids is the most successful in this companies’ history. That’s without you working on them, I might add.”

“Your new line of slaves, you mean,” Seungcheol snaps.

The old man smiles. It is not a kind smile. “Now now. We didn’t come down here to argue with you, Doctor Choi. This isn’t a debate. The board has voted unanimously to decommission this model, so we’re here to destroy it”

Jeonghan doesn’t waste time examining his own reaction to these words. He’s too preoccupied with the way the colour drains out of Seungcheol’s face.

“No,” Seungcheol yells, moving to stand protectively in front of Jeonghan. Despite his outward confidence, Jeonghan can hear his heart beating out of his chest. “I won’t let you touch him.”

“ _It_ , Seungcheol. _It_ is a useless machine. I’m rapidly losing my patience with you and your delusional attachment to this android.”

One of the technician’s steps forward, “Don’t bother with him Sir,” His tone is simpering, and he looks like he’s a moment from dropping on his knees to worship the ground the old man walks on. “You’ve got more important things to worry about.”

“You have permission from the board to do whatever is necessary, remember?” The other technician adds.

The old man sighs, and glances at his watch. “Fine. Do as we discussed. I have a meeting to attend.”

Without sparing another look at Seungcheol or Jeonghan, he sweeps out of the room, the doors sliding shut behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeonghan sees one of the technicians reach for something inside of the pocket of his lab coat. At that moment, a memory breaks through a wall of programming in Jeonghan’s mind, and everything goes quiet.

Jeonghan steps in front of Seungcheol, putting himself between him and the technician, flinging his arms out protectively.

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol hisses, grabbing at the back of his shirt to drag him behind him again, but Jeonghan is stronger than him. He won’t be moved.

Before Jeonghan can reassure Seungcheol that everything is going to be okay, that Jeonghan won't let anyone hurt him, there is a loud bang.

Jeonghan struggles to process what is happening. One minute he is standing, the next he is lying on the ground with his mechanical processes failing and a scorched hole in his chest cavity.

Seungcheol lets out a terrible sound, almost like he’s the one who was just shot. He lunges at the technician and wrestles the weapon out of his hands. He is beautiful and furious as he aims the weapon back at them. Despite the fact that he is unravelling at the seams, when Seungcheol fires blindly, he manages to clip one of them in the side. Both of the technicians flee the room, leaving a trail of crimson behind them.

Seungcheol collapses down next to Jeonghan. He’s sobbing as he rips off his lab coat, pressing it against the cavity in Jeonghan’s chest, as if he’s trying to treat a wound on a human. Something like amusement flickers along in the midst of Jeonghan’s fading awareness. Seungcheol has always treated him like he's human.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Seungcheol says, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine. I’ll find a way to fix you.”

Jeonghan knows that the damage is severe. He is detecting countless fatal errors in his system, and he has already begun to shut down. But still, he lets himself believe Seungcheol’s words, just for a moment.

“Will you take me to see the ocean?” Jeonghan says suddenly, his words slurred and sluggish.

“What?”

“You said you’d take me anywhere I want outside of the building. I want to go to the ocean. I want to see the ocean with you.”

“Alright.” Seungcheol manages to say between painful sobs, “I’ll fix you, then I’ll take you there.”

Jeonghan can feel himself slipping away, but he fights the darkness to act on something he has been thinking about doing from almost the very first moment he opened his eyes, to see Seungcheol standing there in front of him.

With the last of his strength, Jeonghan reaches up, grabs Seungcheol by his collar with one hand, and slots the other hand behind his neck. Then he’s pulling him down and pressing their lips together.

Seungcheol gasps into Jeonghan’s mouth in surprise, but he only hesitates a moment before he’s kissing him back furiously, one hand tangling gently in Jeonghan’s hair. The warmth of Seungcheol’s body against his chases away the creeping cold.

Oh, _oh_ , Jeonghan thinks, just before everything goes black. So this is what it’s like to feel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! thank you so much for reading.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you don't hate me too much for this ending. This is actually meant as a prequel to a short chaptered fic (take from that what you will), but I don't know when I'm going to finish writing that so I tagged this as open/ambiguous ending.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts about this, or where you think it might go next. as always, comments and kudos mean a lot to me and are always appreciated <3


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